My Saboteur
by BloodyQuills
Summary: Something is SERIOUSLY WRONG with Perry Cox.... More so than usual, I mean. Sequel soon to come! Please R/R. THX reviewers! Disclaimer: I own not one lick of either Scrubs, its characters, or AK1200's Drowning/Bronski Beat's Small Town Boy lyrics.
1. Pre Prognosis

**My Saboteur**

He took a week off- wait. _He_ took a week off?

That was worrying.

Dr.Cox _never_ took time off.

JD thumbed through the March/April schedules... it wasn't just a week?

_Oh shit._ JD thought. _This is indefinite._

He snuck behind the desk at records and pulled Dr.Cox's chart. Of course it was at the risk of being belittled and humiliated by Laverne or OUTRIGHT MURDERED by Dr.Cox, but he needed to see. He was careful and calculating, working hard not to even rumple the corner of any one of the pages he was reading.

Illnesses, injuries, procedures - all of them far outdated, none of them a factor- but something caught JD's eye suddenly. A little yellow tab stuck out from the upper right hand side of the file that read: Psych...

_Psych_?

xxxXXXxxx

**January**

Turk and Carla sat at their lunch table, Turk facing Carla from the other side.

"C'mon, baby... we never do it anymore." He pouted and Carla leaned over, suckling briefly on the lower lip that was pushed out toward her in order to portray a pitiful expression. She leaned back, rolled her eyes, sighed, and pressed the tips of her outward thumbs together, her pointer fingers straight up in the air. Turk beamed. "Now that's what I call a goal-post!"

Turk pulled the paper football out of his scrub-top pocket. He positioned it on the table and meticulously leveled his fingers against it, pulling them back and moving forward as though a real football player rushing the ball, and...

"Wait- Turk, what the hell is that? Is that _laughter_?" Carla set her hands over Turk's, looking concerned as she strained to hear what was now coming closer.

"It's probably JD tickling himself again." Turk replied, a bit irritated by the interruption of his triumph. His expression changed when the laughter sped through the room. It came through the room hysterically, insanely, and in the form of one freaked-out Dr.Cox, complete with his hand over his mouth and his eyes darting about the room as he cleared through it.

Through the almost shriek-scale giggling, Carla could catch miniature declarations of his worry through expletives and short, clipped help me's.

After a departure as quick as the arrival, the lunchroom was silent, a unanimous, worried nausea crept up in everyone's throats.

xxxXXXxxx

**February**

Dr. Cox denied up, down, left, right, and center that anything like January's interesting little show had happened. To him it certainly hadn't! It wasn't his fault, after all, that everyone else couldn't handle a little pressure like he could.

However, despite his reasoning, Bob Kelso still drop-kicked him in two directions: first, Ted's office to review legal implications of going absolutely apeshit crazy in the hospital, and second to the psych ward to speak to one of the resident psychiatrists. Go he did, if a little (lot) hesitantly.

"No one- and I _explicitly mean __no__-__one_ is to know about any of this. Got it?" He warned as he left Bob's office for… ugh… Ted's. Dr.Kelso nodded. Truthfully, Dr.Kelso was amused. He had known Perry Cox for god-knows-how-long, and somehow he saw this coming from a long way away. As a matter of fact the very moment JD hit residency, the quick progression of Dr.Cox's psychoses took a vast leap toward becoming a very quick reality.

Dr.Cox dragged himself through Ted's door and sat in the chair opposite the odd bald gentleman. "Dr.Kelso tells me that you and I need to have a completely unnecessary legal mumbo-jumbo sprinkled chit-chat about whatever it was that happened last month." Ted scratched the top of his dome, a small confusion creeping into his eyes. "What is it, then, huh? You look like a half-retarded monkey trying to splice genes."

"Are you in denial?" Ted began in his slow, thick banter, "Or did you really check out for that day?"

Dr.Cox turned red. Red red red from his hairline down to his collar and probably underneath. Ted began to cower a little; seeming tempted to draw his arms up before his face to ward off sudden blows. "I'M NOT GOING TO HIT YOU." He roared. It seemed as though his head could explode under a modicum of pressure more and when he stood from his chair, it flew backwards and clattered loudly on the floor. "And you can take yourself and that greasy sheen of flop sweat and tell BeelzeBob that he can cancel the FUCKING PSYCH APPOINTMENT."

His eyes widened and brimmed with sudden tears (and so did Ted's, for that matter), but before a single one could fall he ran from the room, throwing his beeper in the trash can as he stormed past Carla's desk. In his wake, her coffee spilled all over her pants and shirt. "Hey!! Dr. _COX_! ...Damn it!"

JD came by, blissfully unaware of the melodrama that had occurred within a millisecond of his arrival. He stopped, smiling at Carla. "You've got a little something on your shirt. Right…." He made a circular motion with his index finger, "…there."

"No kidding? I have coffee on my top?" She looked up at him. Turk would have known right away exactly what the fire in the back of those brown eyes meant.

"No need to thank-" At that, Carla had JD by the shirt, and still he smiled arrogantly.

"I know I have coffee on my damn shirt! Dr. Cox just knocked it all over me in one of his token flip-outs!" She let him go kind of hard, but relished it enough to smile a little as JD sprawled backwards.

"Ow." Was his only complaint as he got up and brushed off. He was careful to check his coif once he was standing and steady. "What is up with everyone anyway?"

"C'mon, JD you are _far_ from _that_ stupid." Carla replied as she went toward the supply closet. She grabbed a fresh scrub top and traded it out for her own while still within the private confines of the supply.

While she was at it, she grabbed up a chuck from the supply, intending to clean the coffee from her desk and chair when in the other direction, Dr.Cox came striding back up the hall. He seemed to be on one of his basic missions, he seemed as though he was heading toward a coding patient, however when he looked behind him and saw Dr.Kelso coming, he began to run.

"Do not want!" He cried out, suddenly stricken with a severe panic attack. "DO NOT WANT!"

"D- Do not want? Do not want what?" JD murmured to himself. His brow knitted together in deep thought. Nothing seemed out of the norm about how suddenly Dr.Kelso picked up his speed to run after the problematic situation. Carla, infuriated with the entire episode, ignored the _entire_ hospital, meticulously cleaning away at her desk and chair.

Nobody saw the full syringe fall out of Dr.Kelso's pocket and roll beneath a standing medicine cart as he sped further up to catch Dr.Cox.


	2. The Uncapped Needle

**Chapter 2**

Jordan sat at home, thumbing through some paperwork.

She stopped only a moment to grab another highball and check on the baby. She didn't check the clock once despite the fact that Perry should have been home hours ago. She was drunk, and the baby was sleeping peacefully.

So that _must _have meant that all was well…

xxxXXXxxx

**May**

It was already beginning to get warm outside. While normally the spring weather put a bit of pep into everyone's step, there was no sunshine at Sacred Heart. A massive, dark, brooding cloud hung over everyone's heads. JD, Turk, Elliot, and Carla were standing at the nurse's station, talking amongst themselves.

"What do you think it was that Dr.Cox was running from?" Elliot posed. Nobody answered, nobody knew. It had been a full two months since anyone had heard anything. There were no updates, no gossip… it was like he had never been there.

Turk scratched his head. "What was that thing you were telling me, Carla?"

She tilted her eyes up toward his. Turk and Carla stood curled up against each other, his arms tight around her waist. "After he dumped my coffee all over me running one way down the hall, he came back the other way and looked at me like he was mortified by something. He was sweating and shaking… something wasn't right." She frowned. "I think he was actually deathly afraid of Dr.Kelso."

JD began to laugh. "Afraid of Dr._Kelso_?"

Turk couldn't help but laugh along. "Granted Bob Kelso could take Dr.Cox's job, roll it real tight like a spliff and jam it up his ass, but I'm thinking that as stressed as the man is, he'd probably find it an attractive notion."

"You've heard what he's said about his own job, baby. I'm pretty confused as to why he never quit." Carla added.

Elliot wrapped a strand of hair tightly around her index finger in thought. "Maybe he is afraid of Dr.Kelso." She finally spoke up.

JD, Carla, and Turk all looked her way in hope for some brilliant and vivid observation. It seemed there was none as she made her way down the hall. Janitor had been (for once) doing his cleaning duties when he located the syringe beneath the med cart. It had become uncapped when it fell from Dr.Kelso's pocket and the needle found itself buried nice and deeply into Janitor's hand.

Elliot stopped, shocked. "Are you okay?!" She immediately grabbed up some gloves and removed the needle. "C'mon. We're gonna need to do some…. Wow you're really sweating. Are you…" Her eyes widened and the urgency rose as suddenly Janitor became profusely sweaty and paranoid. "TURK! CARLA!" His instinct was to thrash when Turk had a hold of him. There was no wit, no sarcasm. There was only unabashed fear. "Carla will you please send this syringe to the lab for tests on what's inside it? I also want it tested for contaminants and pathogens."

"Who in the HELL leaves an uncapped needle lying around on the floor?" JD griped. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, he called all the new interns to the floor. "Did any one of you cause this?" He asked angrily. All heads shook no. "This could be potentially fatal if we don't figure out what it was he came in contact with. This patient got stabbed by a needle that he found while cleaning up around the medicine carts. An _uncapped_ needle. This is a perfect example of how careful you must be not to neglect throwing away your medical waste. Can anyone tell me-"

"JD, we have no time for this!" Elliot interrupted. "He's tachycardic and I'm pretty sure he's about five seconds from a seizure. He keeps complaining about smelling burnt toast." She ducked back into the spare room they had put Janitor in to work on him and JD followed, dismissing the bewildered interns, some of whom were actually on the Janitor's good side.

Dr.Kelso whipped around the corner at hearing the ruckus going on in the halls. "What's going on here?!" He spat, poking his nose up in the air.

Carla looked him straight in the eye; "Janitor found an uncapped needle underneath a med cart and it stabbed his palm. Whatever's inside is making him intensely paranoid."

"Carry on." He remarked, turning on his heels and walking off to hide in his office He locked the door behind him, still able to vaguely hear the doctors trying to keep Janitor from dying at the hand of whatever was in that syringe.

He picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hello, is this Jordan?"


	3. Me Here Forever

**Chapter 3**

"This is. Who's this?"

Dr.Kelso smiled. It resembled that of a hungry snake having just spied its supper. "I'm sure you know who this is. Just one moment, though." He lowered the phone from his ear and covered the mouthpiece as a frightened yelp came from Janitor's room. _Obviously,_ Bob thought to himself snidely, _the hallucinations have kicked in. I wonder what he's seeing… killer mold spores? A Golgothan crap demon like the one in Dogma?_ He laughed to himself, and then cleared his throat so as to continue. "My apologies. Anyway, I have called to inform you that I managed to do what you asked me; however something may have gone awry."

Jordan chuckled. "As long as it has nothing to do with your initial task, I'm not concerned." She took back another swig of scotch, setting it to her left as she changed her baby. She reached up briefly to turn up the volume on her Bluetooth.

"That all depends upon you. It seems that when I went to put the… cat into its padded bag, so to speak, the… how to say this? The 'distemper' shot fell out of my lab pocket." He frowned. The entire sentence tasted like iodine to him. "And the janitor found it…. after it went through his palm. He's currently coding."

Jordan could be heard dropping the glass. "You got the syringe back, right?!"

"No," Bob replied grimly. "It seems that Dr.Reed had that Latina nurse Carla take it to the lab to be tested. I can only hope beyond hope that that group of theirs is too stupid to piece two and two together."

"You IDIOT!" Jordan shrieked. One would think that the baby would begin crying hysterically under the shock of her mother's screech, however much like their little boy, the baby enjoyed Jordan's ability to emasculinate with ease and could be heard 

giggling incessantly. "Fuck! You do what you can to get that damn syringe! Moron!" She reached up and pressed the button on the outside of the earpiece to effectively hang up on the doctor. She took it off and stuffed it in her pocket, then finished diapering her happy little girl.

Dr.Kelso looked at the phone as though it had just licked his face. He hung it up and sat down, running his fingers upsettedly through his salt and pepper locks. Anger approximated his panic and soon he found himself heading at an alarming pace toward the psych ward. More accurately: Dr.Cox's private suite.

"Good afternoon, Dr.Kelso." The psych nurse smiled and buzzed him in.

"Hello, Agnes. I just need to speak to Perry for a moment. Don't worry about any orderlies. I have a shot of tranquilizer with me if he starts reacting." He patted his empty lab-coat pocket and smiled his empty smile as he waltzed on by the hospital security and into Dr.Cox's room.

Dr.Cox sat curled up in a corner, shivering from the air conditioning that simply flowed through his flimsy gown like a breeze through a screen door. His hair had finally begun to curl again before this, but once his panicked state caused him to pull locks out, they had to cut it down to a short 1-inch all around. He was pallid, and though he shivered from the cold, he was sweating profusely. He rocked back and forth, his knees pulled into his chest, and stared blankly at the wall opposite him.

Those mad, blue eyes were almost blind. Those same blue eyes that were not insane, but were somehow always satisfied despite any long winded complaints, sat now dull and listless in their shallow sockets. There was a lack of life there.

Dr.Kelso closed and locked the door. He approached slowly and sat on the twin bed in the room, directly facing Dr.Cox. "I don't know how it happened, Perry. But you'd better hope that the syringe falling out of my jacket pocket was Almighty God himself revealing his existence. If those lackeys of yours find out what was inside that they may figure out what's inside you. And if they do, I'll have to take more drastic measures. I really don't want to have to kill you."

He waited earnestly for Dr.Cox to look up at him, grin that… that animalistic grin and spout off some inane 60 second bout of drivel. His only move was to tip his head upward, looking blankly at the doctor before him.

"Nothing, eh? What is it they're giving you now, anyway?" Dr.Kelso rose from the bed, unlocked, opened, and reached out of the door and into the chart box for Dr.Cox's clipboard. He went back into the room, closed and locked the door, and sat back down on the bed. He slipped his bifocals onto his nose and began to thumb through the records. "Let's see here. Ohhhh…" He chuckled amusedly. "Chlorpromazine, is it?" He closed the clipboard and set it down. "Bottom line, Perry, I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you right here. And if you are ever again alert enough to wonder… yours is definitely not the question why."

Dr.Cox looked slowly away.

**June**

Another month had passed. Little did Dr.Cox's _real_ loved ones know that day by day by wretched day Jordan and Dr.Kelso 'visited' him. Each and every time it seems they whittled away at his sense of self. He had become an abandoned shell.

On one particularly uncomfortable day, a new nurse had forgotten to give Dr.Cox his hourly dose of antipsychotics and he awoke to disorientation and rage. At that very moment, both Dr.Kelso _and_ Jordan came into the room. Dr.Cox only watched as they chattered away, both smiling glibly like two ugly, evil little gnomes.

Only one clear thought was able to piece itself together inside his head: _They're trying to keep me here forever. _

He took his moment then and there. He stood slowly, supporting himself against the wall and gauged his options- at least that's what he thought he was doing. In reality he sprang toward Dr.Kelso, snarling and clawing him, eyes burning like a wildfire.

Dr.Kelso looked desperately around the room for the call bell, when he remembered that he had it removed from this particular 'suite'. Though his hands were weak and curled into fists from the medications he had received, he was still strong in the legs somehow and used pressure from his quads to press his arm tight against Kelso's throat, choking him.

Jordan beat on the door; she couldn't get the keys from Dr.Kelso lest Dr.Cox attack her, too.

"HE'S AWAKE!!" She screamed, thumping against the window desperately. She suddenly stopped cold, realizing who stood outside the door, looking in uncaringly. She heard Dr.Kelso hit the floor, and she turned her back to the blank-faced crowd, seeing her first clear glimpse of a fury so thick she felt smothered by it. She was stone-cold sober suddenly and turned back toward JD, Carla, Elliot, and Turk.

She pled and pled with them, Carla the first to crumble. She ran to where Janitor's things were kept for the time being and grabbed his key ring, locating the master key, and ran back to the door, unlocking it just in time for Dr.Cox to reach her, pinning her between himself and the door, a hand at each side of her head. His eyes almost _glowed_ as they locked onto hers.

Jordan scampered backwards, turning away to run… straight into the steely grasp of hospital security. Dr.Cox lunged, but slowed on his own, putting his arms around Carla, his face in her neck. Carla shook, not with fear but with the relief that was so evident it was tangible to everyone there. He began to cry, and then he fell to his knees, his legs refusing to hold him up any longer.


	4. Chlorpromazine

**Chapter 4**

"It's okay." She whispered. She gently stroked his short, soft hair and rubbed his back. "It's gonna be all right. C'mon. We're going back to mine and Turk's apartment so that you can sleep some of this off."

Using some of the few clear moments he knew he'd have for a while, he tried his best to explain through the drug-addling he had been put through. He'd have most certainly rather been hobbled than chemically lobotomized. "I don't know how alright it's gonna be when I start going into withdrawal." He whispered to her, not moving from her embrace.

Carla's chin trembled. "We'll talk on the way. Okay?" She let the tears slip down her cheeks as she looked at Turk, Elliot, and JD. She then looked at Jordan and her upper lip began to curl away from her teeth. "What's your excuse, cabróna?"

Dr.Cox lifted his head from Carla's neck, managed somehow to get to his feet, and stepped back, looking directly through Jordan. "_Fuck.__ Her._ _Excuse_." His chin crumpled a little, another frustrated onslaught of tears threatening. "You took my money, my home, my _children_, my balls, some of my hair and ALL of MY PRIDE." He stopped for a moment, trying to let the wave of rage float over. Once it did, he continued wearily. "All I had left was my sanity and my job. That was it-" His eyes began to slip closed.

His balance began to fail and his knees began to crumple again. "Turk!" Carla cried out. She went forward to help catch him, and wavered under his weight as Turk ran over to try and assist. "I need a wheelchair!" She added. Elliot ran to grab one and slipped in behind Dr.Cox as Carla and Turk lowered him into the seat.

JD took his opportunity to help Dr.Cox by speaking to the hospital security. "Don't let her or Dr.Kelso in there out of your sight until the cops get here, guys. Thanks…. As a matter of fact, why don't we keep her in that room with Dr.Kelso? Be sure to take the keys off of him before you lock them in." He went down a ward to Janitor's room, stopping at his chart holder first. He looked at the test results once more. "Fluoxymesterone and imipramine." He frowned and closed the chart, putting it back in its place. Janitor seemed fine now, especially knowing that it was only one dose.

JD tried to prepare himself for the reality of Dr.Cox's acute situation. Had Dr.Kelso been administering t his to Dr.Cox? How many months before he truly started acting out was Dr.Kelso administering that to him? In what quantities? That combination of medications was nothing to mess with. Fluoxymesterone is a steroid that mimics testosterone, and imipramine is a tricyclic antidepressant used in major depression, dysthymia, bipolar disorder, and several other things, none of which were positive. Much like paxil, imipramine is a drug that patients need nursed slowly onto and weaned off of in order to avoid serious side effects. None of the above symptoms were things that Dr.Cox suffered in the first place.

He ran to catch up with Carla and Turk, first grabbing up a phlebotomy kit. "Hey…" He went around to their front so that he could see Dr.Cox head on. He appeared to be out as though he had been given his regular dose of Chlorpromazine. "Before you guys go, I need to grab a phial of blood now that we have a chance." He made a clean, painless, and quick job of getting the blood sample. "I'll make sure the lab rushes on this one and when I find out whether or not there are any drugs in his system I'll page you."

Turk and Carla both nodded and left the hospital after placing a quick band-aid over the sample site.

xxxXXXxxx

Turk and Carla arrived at their destination, Carla running in ahead of Turk to rip through the apartment and tidy it a bit so that Dr.Cox could be comfortable. She changed the sheets and pillowcases up on their big, plush bed and soon helped Turk get Dr.Cox into the bed and comfortable. Both thorough members of the medical field, Turk and Carla were sure to take and record Dr.Cox's vitals. Turk did an osteophysical work-up to make quite sure there were no broken bones or joint damage from having been curled up by overdose after overdose of antipsychotic.

Dr.Cox woke some ten minutes later and panicked, finding himself completely disoriented. Carla had been sitting with him, however, and his panic was short lived somehow. He had broken into a sweat, and Carla dabbed it away as she began to gently pose a few questions.

"Are you comfortable?" She asked, taking his pulse to make sure it had started to decrease.

He nodded weakly. "This is _your_ apartment, right?" He asked nervously.

"It is." She replied patiently. "How are you feeling?"

He pulled the covers up and curled onto his side, using the bulk of the comforter like a body pillow. "Feeling? Relieved… confused…" He frowned. His next answer was sure to be angry; saying it, he was sure, would have made the anger come forward in full force and he wasn't sure Carla could handle that alone. He drifted back into sleep instead of speaking further and Carla left for just a moment to grab some tea, her favorite book, and a muffin. She came back in to sit up with him while Turk returned to the hospital to check in on a few people.

**Several Hours Later**

The phone rang in the room, startling Carla out of a nap she didn't know she was going to end up taking. Once she knew for sure that it hadn't fazed Dr.Cox, she picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey, baby, how's everything going?"

"Hi, sugar. It's fine. Dr.Cox is asleep again. Have you guys found out anything new?" She chewed one of her nails worriedly.

"Before we discuss this, can I ask you to step out of Dr.Cox's presence first?" Carla left the room, closing the door behind her but for a crack just in case.

"Okay, I'm out of earshot. What's going on?"

"I've got his results right here. The lab guys found Fluoxymesterone, imipramine, _and_ Chlorpromazine in his system. The Fluoxymesterone and imipramine are exactly the drugs found in Janitor's system. You saw how Janitor reacted and he didn't get _nearly_ as much of that shit administered to his system as Dr.Cox did. This brings me to something else…"

Carla nearly dropped the phone. "Sucio chingador!!" She grit her teeth. "What else?"

Turk continued by carefully explaining the fact that aside from the Fluoxymesterone, the other two drugs liked to die hard in ones system, meaning that Dr.Cox was looking at a long, uncomfortable barrage of withdrawal symptoms.

"We might throw the option out there of a medicinally induced coma so that he can sleep through it. His other tests show that he is anemic, malnourished, and dehydrated, so I'll be bringing home a saline drip for the dehydration. I'm getting the pharmacy to pack up some vitamin supplements and iron tablets as well so that we can keep him from getting worse."

Turk went quiet. "What's the matter, baby?" Carla asked in concern.

"This is just… disillusioning, is all."


	5. It's Cold Outside Where You Stay

**Chapter 5**

Carla nodded in agreement at this. "It'll be okay. We've got him out of there now… Would you do me a favor, mijo?"

"Always, baby." Turk replied.

"Will you take a look at his chart if you have it there and tell me what kind of nourishment regiment they had him on- If any at all?" This particular sentence did not come easy to her, as she had been hoping against hope it hadn't gone to the extremes in which she had imagined it all.

"Carla, they had him on a strict bread and water diet. It's no wonder he can barely stay awake for five minutes at a time. God—" The phone was set down for a moment, and Carla could hear Turk cursing a blue streak and throwing the clipboard from her end. "I'm on my way home, and after I even off my blood sugar, we're gonna do a thorough workup on Dr.Cox. I'll be bringing home a multivitamin drip to start him on to go with the saline drip. I am so damn mad…." And with that he hung up the phone, leaving Carla to stew.

"RAAAAAAGHFuuuuuck!!"

Carla jumped at the sound of this and of the proceeding crash as Dr.Cox seemed to wake once more into angry confusion. She stepped inside the room and went over to the bed. It was the lamp, nothing too severe, but it had sure seen better days.

Dr.Cox paced the room upsettedly, his fingers twitching; the lack of medication that had been keeping them curled and useless meant that the synapses were slowly, torturously recovering. His fingers were entirely pins and needles and he tried futilely to shake it out, but nothing helped. He grit his teeth, paced more, whimpered, cried to himself… Carla stepped in front of him and put a gentle hand on his shoulders. "Hey…"

Dr.Cox stopped, startled. His eyes were bright with tears as he looked directly into Carla's oceans of deep brown.

"You're not in there anymore." She reasoned with him.

He shook his head, realizing his new place, and for the time being, remembering that everything had unraveled beneath Dr.Kelso… and Jordan. He bowed his head. "This is certainly awkward."

"No. Not at all." Carla replied supportively. "But considering you just felt an onslaught of what your entire recovery will be based upon, I think now is the time to let you know that you have the option of sleeping through this in its entirety."

Dr.Cox nodded anxiously. Despite the comfort he received, the severe and gnawing panic began to consume him. Something was coming, something was coming, something was coming…. Turk entered the room suddenly, unexpectedly, and Dr.Cox cried out, startled, thrown into a full-blown panic attack that almost put to shame the one he suffered in the hospital that got him sent to the psych ward in the first place. He crumpled to the floor and scrambled back into a corner of the room like a lab rat lost in the maze. "Knock me out, Gandhi… KNOCK ME **OUT**!" His eyes were wide and wild. Merely a glance into them would show you the doctor waiting patiently behind his battered psyche to be let out.

Turk, though shocked, took orders like a man. He went and grabbed up an IV prep kit, got Dr.Cox back into the bed, got the IV inserted and introduced a sedative into the line. Soon, he was O-U-T out and would continue to be so until he asked for no more, or until he was once again medically sound. Turk left Carla to administer the vitamin drip as he sat on the couch, fiddling with his blood sugar monitor.

xxxXXXxxx

"Hey, Perry…"

"Ben?" Dr.Cox's brow knitted, even in his sleep. "Seeing you can't mean—"

"Right. It can't mean you're dead, because it actually means that I'm the image that your subconscious chose to keep you company. Cool, huh?"

He nodded, distracted. "Ben, I'm gonna get through this, right?"

Ben shrugged. "You will if it's what you want." And with that he snapped a Polaroid of the bewildered expression on his friend's face.

Dr.Cox sat in a big, plush, overstuffed chair that furnished his subconscious. Before him played every moment that he missed out on since the existence of his children. He sat stoically, watching his baby girl laugh and play… his little boy was there, too, trying to teach his sister how to roll a nerf ball back and forth. At one point the little boy picked it up, bouncing it off of his sister's head. Just when Dr.Cox expected startled baby tears, instead he heard sweet, dulcet laughter.

Though through difficulty, a smile came to him at the sound of his beautiful baby's laughter. He didn't care anymore that her name was JD. Jennifer Dylan was the most beautiful little girl he had ever seen. Ben crouched there by Dr.Cox's chair. "She's a pretty little girl."

"I suppose you're gonna tell me you got to meet her before I did."

Ben turned a face. "Pft, no."

"Then would you do me the honors of shutting up? I'm watching my little girl play."

Ben raised an eyebrow and stepped beyond Dr.Cox's chair, right into playtime with his kids. Ben sat on the floor beside them, rolling the ball back and forth with Jake and Jennifer. Dr.Cox stood, alarmed. He stepped forward and found that he merely walked through the imagery. He slumped back down in his chair and watched, reluctantly inactive.

"They can't see me or hear me, I'm guessing." He forbade his voice to waiver.

"You're guessing right." He said, smiling at the still tiny Jennifer Dylan.

Suddenly, Dr.Cox sat up in his seat, his hand trembling as he curled his fingers into a fist. The thought had just crossed him that there has been nobody but sitters to watch the children for…

… For probably days at this point. Who knows how long he'd been watching his little ones play like a proud daddy…

xxxXXXxxx

_Stay with me just for the day_

_Let your soul come and rest for a minute, now._

_Share your mind, if you have some time,_

_I would love to sit and talk to you._

Carla was notified by the hospital that the kids' caretakers had called. She returned their call and explained what had been occurring. She looked at the clock as she had ended the call, promising to bring them spare clothes, toys, cash for food expenses, diapers, etc, and to keep them abreast of what happens. JD came in and took over for her. As a preventative measure, Turk was in the next room asleep, just in case Dr.Cox awakens and flies into a confused rage once more. The shock alone of JD's hero in such a state would be more painful than any beating he could be served up.

_I will wait if you ask me to,_

_But I won't stay here forever now_

_I know your heart could keep me warm_

_If you'd let me stay_

Carla ran and got what she had promised to get while JD stayed up at Dr.Cox's side. He didn't mind, really… as a matter of fact he had hoped for a moment alone with his mentor. He couldn't do what he'd always wanted to while Dr.Cox was awake to see it. The pain of receiving rejection atop ostracization would have been unequivocally painful. He sat at his respectful distance in the chair Carla occupied before and traced the features of Dr.Cox's face with a steady, loving eye.

_I feel that your eyes won't open,_

_And these dreams, my heart I can't deceive them._

His palms misted a little with sweat as he stood and slowly approached the bed. He reached forward slowly and feathered a touch along the sleeping gentleman's jaw line. His face was soft- Carla had been meticulous about keeping him clean and shaven. JD's confidence waivered and he backed away, dropping his hand away from Dr.Cox's face.

_Maybe the moon will come down and save me._

_Maybe your eyes will stop me from falling._

_Oh I'm drowning, yeah…. Yes I'm drowning….._

He sat back in his place and through glassy, tired eyes, he tried to imagine what a single day of Dr.Cox's life was like, stuck without human contact, solace, food, comfort, warmth in that tiny little room.

_What can I say, what can I do?_

_Is there any way to get through to you?_

_I put myself into your shoes_

_And I walk around these streets of yours._

The phone rang; the CID listing stated that someone was calling from county lockup. That meant it was Jordan. What a treat.

"Hello?" JD answered irritably.

"Mary-sue. It's been a while. So… is he awake?"

"What's it to you?" JD growled in response. "I'm sure not even he would want the disappointment of knowing you're still alive."

"Wanna know why I picked up and took everything?" She continued. She sounded like she hadn't been feeling well. That's what the DTs will do to you, though. "I left him because I refuse to live a lie with a gay man."

JD slowly lowered the phone from his head, pressing the off button, disconnecting the call.

_It's cold outside where you stay,_

_But my heart is not far away._

_So take a breath and close your eyes-_

_I want to hold you…_


	6. Unabashed Hysterical Laughter

**Chapter 6**

_Do I tell Turk and Carla?_ JD thought to himself. Frankly, he was stuck with the shittiest possible secret in the world. Even worse than the secret, was the reality of Dr.Cox's complex issue. He was ostracized, stripped of his fatherhood privileges, drugged, committed, and starved. He more than likely suffered nightmares under the duress of all those drugs, and physical mistreatment from the orderlies (as several joint separations in normally healthy spots would soon show). Every one of these things had happened because something had occurred during development in utero before he was born that he couldn't stop.

Hell, a massive deal of these things is what creates people like Michael Myers, and although Dr.Cox suffered some atrophy at the hands of malnourishment and drugging, he was still a big, strong guy.

As one could most certainly imagine, many vivid scenarios bloomed inside JD's mind. He floated through them, ignoring reality for a while.

**August**

A grueling month and a half had passed, and finally Dr.Cox was weaned from all those meds. He had successfully surpassed his entire bout of withdrawal by sleeping peacefully through, surrounded by friends and loved ones. He woke up somewhat slowly from his final sedative, but the way his eyes sparkled when he realized he had been delivered from his hell, told the kind of story that no words ever could.

This wasn't over by a long shot. No, Perry Cox was looking at least a year of therapy if not two in order to safely submerge him back into society. This had become especially pertinent if he planned to continue his career.What Dr.Cox had to look forward to was a thick spread of depression and anxiety because his barren intracranial dopamine pharmacy could no longer deliver him a steady dose of happy.

As time passed, he had some major downs to go with his fair amount of ups. You can't really learn to walk without stumbling, and he had become as clumsy as JD (no offense) - at least where his grip on his self was concerned. When he'd have his downs, Carla would take the day off of work and stay with him. She tried various different things to try and distract 

him from the drilling thoughts that nabbed him and depressed him. They watched movies, played games, looked up random crap online, played with the baby, or just sat together and talked.

His anxiety had been high one day as fall colors began to show. "Carla… have you spoken to Chaka lately?" He carefully posed.

"Chak- oh." She smiled glibly. "JD? No, not since he last came by."

Dr.Cox nodded, sipping gingerly at his cup of vanilla chai. His face showed that he was mulling over something. It was painfully telling, especially in the furrow at his brow.

"You look like a man with a message." Carla stated.

"I _am_ one…." He took a deep, reluctant breath, held it for a moment, and then exhaled. "But… before I can out and try to talk about it, there's someone I need to speak to. May I use the phone?"

Carla nodded and patted his hand. "You know where it is." She curled up a little tighter where she sat and flipped the page on her book, delving into the ocean of words in a new chapter. Dr.Cox stood and grabbed up the phone, going into what was once his old room. He had finally convinced Turk and Carla (without much convincing needed, oddly.) that he would be all right in the guest room now, so that is where he was put. He was happy to return the kind couple their…. interesting room.

It turned out that in inimitable Dr.Cox fashion, he had called his lawyer, promptly putting her on retainer, explaining to her exactly who he is, and exactly what had happened because of it. After an hour on the phone, he hung up, sitting and letting what he had just done sink in. Just as he moved to set the phone to his right, it rang.

He picked it up and turned it over, glancing at the CID display….

"What the fuck?" He broke into a thin sweat and let the phone continue to ring.

"Who's calling, Perry?" Carla called from where she sat. He stood from where he sat in his room and walked into the living room, handing Carla the phone with a cold, shaky hand. She looked at the CID just as Carla and Turk's awesome answering machine message starts playing. "How the hell is that even possible right now?"

….Beep.

The message started off with city noise in the background. A slow, rolling giggle began to sound through the speakers. It soon turned into unabashed hysterical laughter. "I got out. You forgot about the lawyers, _Perry._ " Jordan's laughter began settling down between every few words until it stopped. "Those people got me EVERYTHING that you should have rightfully kept. Only I didn't want you to…." The voice tapered off for a moment and it soon became apparent that she was now crying. "You deserve NOTHING for putting me through this. Not love, not hope, and certainly not comfort. I am coming for you. If I can't ruin you, I'll kill you instead."


	7. Cry Boy Cry

A moment of silence passed again and the sniffling turned into actual vocal crying. "Perry, I love you… pick up… _please_?" After a little more sniffling and a bit more crying wordlessly, the phone hung gently up, and the message ended.

Carla had stood, dropping her book on the floor by then. She braced herself against Dr.Cox's side, noticing how shaky his legs were. His color left his face and his body was slicked with a sheen of sweat. JD was coming in to check in on Dr.Cox. Randomly, really, but what does he have to be afraid of? "JD, hurry! I can't hold his weight!"

"What just happened?" JD asked as he scurried in and took some of Dr.Cox's weight on himself. "C'mon, Perry. Have a seat on the couch." Without a reply, he did what JD had asked of him and took a few steps back, sitting hard on the couch. He crouched in front of the older doctor who had a shaking hand perched against his forehead. "Are you okay?" JD carefully posed.

Dr.Cox mumbled something unintelligible.

"I'm sorry?" JD replied, trying to cue Dr.Cox into repeating himself.

"I said…" He removed his hand from his face, his eyes bright with stress and emotion. All it took was one look into JD's expression and he flopped back into his seat, disbelief crawling across his features. "How much do you know, Newbie?"

JD stood for a moment, shocked. As the shock slid from his face, he replied sadly: "I picked up the phone one day when I was sitting up with you and it was Jordan. She…" He cleared his throat nervously. "She told me that you're g-"

"Stop right there, Cass. I'll pop you a solid one if you finish that sentence." Dr.Cox growled.

"Do you think we're gonna judge you, Perry?" JD asked, obviously hurt.

"You act like you know me. You truly know nothing." He made to walk away, but as he turned there stood Carla, unwilling to give him this one for free.

"You have had the hardest damn time of any man I have ever met. But don't you call Bambi a stranger. Especially not to his face! How much triflin' bullshit have you both put up with together?" Dr.Cox pressed his lips and raised a brow impatiently. Carla stopped. "Got somethin' to say?"

He resumed a stance he hadn't used in almost a year. It brought chills up JD's spine as Dr.Cox put his fists to his hips. "Yeah. G'bye." He turned and went out the door, keys to his old apartment in hand.

Just as JD motioned to take a seat and chat about things unrelated with Carla in his chipper 'well, anyway' tone, Carla brashly and upsettedly interrupted: "Bambi you had BETTER keep within at least three paces of Perry Cox at all times and if you for any reason lose track of him, I will have Turk pink belly you for an HOUR when he gets home. _GOT IT_?"

Before the sharp T sound in IT could reach his ears, JD was out the door, tailing closely behind Dr.Cox.

"If you had any clue what was good for you, you'd leave me the hell alone, Newbie." He groused. "Besides, don't you crawl at the idea of homosexuality like Gandhi does?"

That stopped JD for a beat, but he sprung back into stride the second he felt anger flare up in his face. "I resent that for _so many_ reasons, Perry. How could you judge me when- HEY!" Dr. Cox had reached his destination and without alerting his protégé to turning a quick corner into a little hole-in-the-wall bar. "I was talking to you! You stubborn _jerk_." He grumbled, following three paces behind. Though somehow JD was expecting Perry to be Perry and actually go to a gay bar when he wanted a stiff drink, he was still surprised to see his hero barrel dejectedly through the front entrance.

He got a beer at the bar and went into the middle of the already crowded dance floor, weaving in and out between people to confuse the muddled raven-haired doctor behind him. Like many played in a gay bar, a catchy song began with a steady pulsing beat. It surged throughout the bar in waves and instead of following, it compelled JD to stop and dance. 

Elsewhere in the club, Dr.Cox sat at a corner table, nursing his beer and readying himself for the set of double shots the waitress had just brought him.

He was able to see JD dance. He watched the young brunet's fluid movement with anger, but quiet awe.

_You leave in the morning  
With everything you own  
In a little black case  
Alone on a platform  
The wind and the rain  
On a sad and lonely face_

The words of the song made Dr.Cox think back, but not too far, as JD's sweet writhe on the dance floor kept his attention... not to mention the attention of the other whores on the dance floor. He grit his teeth and took back one of his doubles of whiskey. There were other eyes all over that soft, pale flesh. Those eyes were surely connected to not only hands, but to genitalia.

That didn't sit well with Dr.Cox. Not a single, solitary bit, yet still he waited. After all, JD wasn't gay…no. He took back his second double and concentrated harder on the young doctor.

_Mother will never understand  
Why you had to leave  
But the answers you seek  
Will never be found at home  
The love that you need  
Will never be found at home_

_Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away.  
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away._

The warmth layered the inside of the curly-headed doctor's stomach. He got up, able to see the crowd closing in around a now grinning JD. With new vigor that was propped up using resentment, jealousy, and a _raging_, bittersweet crush, Dr.Cox pushed through the crowd and into the middle, standing point-blank behind JD.

_Pushed around and kicked around  
Always a lonely boy  
You were the one  
That they'd talk about around town  
As they put you down_

One of the club goers stayed around JD long enough to hand him a beer. Dr.Cox lurched toward him, trying to make himself look bigger than the little twinkie that was buzzing about JD, hoping to go screen-T shopping and share hair care secrets after twinkie sex.

"This isn't a leather bar, butchie." The blond youth bitched as he walked by.

"…" Dr.Cox decided against even replying and gingerly, carefully slid an arm around JD's waist, pulling the young man's back flush to the older doctor's front. "Why are you doing this?" He whispered warmly in JD's ear, moving in time with him, the movement equally fluid. The crowd now gaped at the both of them

"Because you don't want me to follow you, and I am sick of following you. You're not going anywhere, so neither am I. I'm making the b-…" JD sighed as he felt something press into the small of his back. "I'm making the best of it."

"So here's another question," Dr.Cox continued, grabbing a sip of JD's beer. "How can you stand being in here? In the same vein- how can you stand being so close to me, knowing what the potential for happenstance is?"

JD pulled away from him, looking at him like he had just been slapped. "All this time and you still don't get it."

_And as hard as they would try  
They'd hurt to make you cry__  
But you never cried to them  
Just to your soul  
No you never cried to them  
Just to your soul_

_Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away.  
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away._

_Cry, boy, cry..._

Dr.Cox let his eyes flutter seductively closed as the booze kicked in and did its job. The music made him feel like he was floating and it showed in his movement as he danced freely. JD stepped into his space and took him by the shoulders, shaking him. "Look at me, Perry."

He stopped and did what JD asked, looking him right in eyes that were wide open and wounded. "We need to talk. Order whatever you want to drink, it's on me." At first Dr.Cox refused, turning his back on the boy and dancing. He was interrupted by driven persistence and glared at JD.

"What do you _want_ from me?"

"I want to be clear with you, and I want you to do the same with me. Or else….." JD tapered off, looking pensive.

"Or else what?" Dr.Cox probed, curious.

"Or else fuck it." He replied, disappointed. He went up to the bar to order for the both of them, relying on Dr.Cox only to either sit down or keep dancing until he returned. Easy enough. JD surprised Dr.Cox by bringing a full bottle of Glenfiddich to the table and two highball glasses to go with.

"Oh c'mon newb. You and I both know, and I have said before that you don't drink scot- hmm." Dr.Cox watched as JD took back his highball glass like a man. Didn't even shudder.  


"When did you learn to drink this shit? Your insides are gonna look like the bottom of one of Kelso's feet after a while, you know that, right?"

JD smirked. "It doesn't matter when I learned, it just matters that I shut you up in the middle of your self-centered bullshit. Here." He poured a shot for Dr.Cox and took his second one down.

"If I were me again I'd pop you." He scowled and took down his drink. JD laughed openly, his sapphire eyes twinkling under the low hanging lights. Dr.Cox contemplated this and his face grew solemn. "Newbie… What's this all about? As far as I know from your behavior around the nurses and Gandhi, you haven't a single truly homosexual bone in your body. Why're you dancing around the middle of _my_ new dance floor, flirting with _my_ twinkie gay boys?"

"It isn't about boys or girls, Perry. It stopped being about boys or girls during my second year as a resident, only, because it was nobody's business, nobody found out." JD nodded.

"So, what- you're bi? Big deal. I was bi for years until one day… it just wouldn't work around Jordan anymore." He grimaced around his next shot.

"What brought you to the conclusion that you're gay, then?" JD asked, taking a brief break from the scotch with an appletini.

Dr.Cox's expression softened. "Well," he began gently, "because it _did_ work when I was visiting a friend of mine one day. It worked quite well."

JD giggled a little at this. Perhaps it was the Glenfiddich going to his head. "C'mon. How do you know it wasn't random?"

"An erection during intercourse is never random, newbie."

xX**M**ore**T**o**C**omeXx


	8. Don't Sabotage Me

"Granted." JD nodded sternly. He looked straight ahead at Dr.Cox. "Is this real?"

"I'm afraid so." He replied with a sorry smile.

"Damn." JD replied. Dr.Cox got a chuckle out of this, as it struck him as cute. "Just when you think you're gonna wake up at home beside Kim… to the sound of Sammy crying… the dream you're stuck in throws you another curveball."

Dr.Cox listened as his past came back to sit in his lap in the form of a Depeche Mode great entitled 'I Want You Now'. _How apropos._ He thought to himself. The sighs, groans, and synth-rhythms wrapped themselves around him and more than likely caused his jeans to tighten the slightest bit. "I think I can bring this all into perspective for you, Dr. Dorian." His tone was flat, as though even through the statement a lot of thought was being applied.

He stood from his spot and moved to JD's side of the table, sitting comfortably beside him. He pulled the boy's chair between his knees and leaned against the side of the back of JD's chair, breathing in his scent. Dr.Cox released a warm sigh as he gathered his courage and pushed the looming fear aside, taking JD's earlobe gently between his teeth. He tugged on it carefully, and then let his lips slip against it as he pulled away.

JD bristled and turned toward Dr.Cox, looking shocked. Both now stared each other down in provocatively close proximity to one another. Neither moved, both merely letting their eyes dart over features they had never been able to see so close before.

"My god…" JD muttered…. "Your eyes are so gorgeous…"

Dr.Cox felt fear rise up in his chest. It gripped his heart tight and the only thing it would allow him to do is look away.

"D-don't bring me out this far just to strand me, Perry." He warned. He leaned in and took rare initiative, hoping against hope that Dr.Cox would turn and complete the link in the chain of fools. Instead he knocked back another shot and went to the dance floor, letting JD's heart shatter. It wasn't an unfamiliar sound, so it didn't faze him a bit.

JD got up. _Fuck you then. _He thought. Proclaiming this aloud would only alert them all to the fact that he was perhaps soon to cry. He paid the tab and headed toward the back door. Nobody left through this door, and veteran club-goers would tell you that this is because directly across the way was the entry to a country-western bar. Activities included shit-kickin', line dancin', and queer stompin'. No exclusions. The only veteran club-goer was Dr.Cox, and he had not told the young doctor a thing.

JD exited the club, pulling his collar up against the cold and stuffed his hands in his pocket, hunching up against the chill. It had become inexplicably nippy for a summer evening. "I bet we're gonna have an Indian summer this year." He thought aloud. That in its small, thoughtful volume was missed by the ears of everyone inside the gay bar, even with the door still swinging closed.

"Lookie there, boys. Ain't he perty? What're you doin' out here all alone?"

JD straightened his back, shocks of peril warning his body into a careful stance. He began to speed his steps down the alley, toward his safety beneath the bright street light ahead.

"Hey, **faggot**! We're talkin' to _you_."

His swift walk turned into a half run. The light and the warmth of a cab was within easy reach.

The door of the gay bar had barely clicked closed when the sharp, angry, hateful resonation of the word _faggot_ hit Dr.Cox's ears. "Shit…" He looked around and saw nothing of JD. "Shit!" He ran toward the back door. It clicked shut, and worse still, jammed tight. He tried all he could to take the near exit, even kicking the press-release, hoping to unstick it with a swift jar.

His heart sank as he realized he would have to wade through the thickening crowd to get to the front exit… And damn it ALL if the DJ didn't decide to play YMCA at that very second. He sped up, dodging and ducking, even avoiding people he had known just to get to the door. He grabbed the bouncer and brought her along. Nothing, after all, was more beneficial toward the prompt cessation of a fight than the sight of an eight foot tall drag queen with a nine millimeter handgun that matched her size fourteen platform heels. Wow.

Dr.Cox could hear the onset of the confrontation as he neared the mouth of the alley. JD was strong of heart where body failed him, and that was a problem that could potentially display his life to the rednecks, settled all dainty-like on a silver platter.

"Leave me alone… There's no reason for this at all… all you have to do is forget you saw me, and I won't tell anybody I saw you. It's easy, guys."

The inebriated, cowboy booted men began to laugh heartily at this. JD turned and took off running, missing the sight of one of them picking up a stray pipe in the alley. Another pried a nail-riddled board from the window of a condemned building behind them, joining back up with the good ol' boy super-group. They smiled carnivorously as they began to take chase.

The man with the pipe hurled it at JD. It tore noiselessly through the onslaught of rain, end over end until it glanced off the side of the young doctor's head, causing him to topple forward to the alley pavement. He was not knocked out, however, and he made a brave attempt to scramble to his feet, clutching at the oozing flesh wound with his free hand. They rounded up on him as though there was never space between them and began kicking and spitting.

"This is just the first course, _princess_!" One of them drawled stupidly, going to his knees to achieve balance and to add leverage to what were already hard and direct punches. One of them met with JD's mouth, his full, bountiful pout not being enough to shield his teeth from loosening from the impact. His lower lip split in two places, his teeth slicing through the inside of his upper lip, causing blood to roll from the corners of his mouth. He could not catch a breath to scream as fists and feet kept pummeling his stomach.

This was definitely far worse than any pink-belly Turk could _ever_ give.

A weak gurgle was all he could manage, blood obstructing his speech. In his mind it was a valiant cry for Dr.Cox as he saw the familiar, welcome stance at the end of the alley. He found himself struggling for breath, curled up into a ball to try and deflect some of the kicks. That in itself was excruciating as every rib had suffered at least a crack if not a break.

With JD's last ounce of strength, he put his arms out in front of his body, his nerve endings all raw and screaming so loudly that he did not feel the nail sink in. He did not even feel the board that would be leaving a large, angry bruise around the puncture wound in his side.

His arms dropped from the air, and he was out before he had the pleasure of hearing the gunshot. This shot, however, did not come from the drag queen, nor did it come from Dr.Cox. This shot came from behind, killing one of the rednecks point-blank, and the man behind the trigger was Janitor. The time to enjoy victory as the others scattered was short.

The drag-queen parted ways from the scene to go inside and call for an ambulance (besides, baby, she jus' got her damn nails did), and Dr.Cox sprinted to JD's side.

He was soaked by the warm rain that was washing the spit and booze away from JD's wounds. Dr.Cox had no coat, nothing to shield the young doctor from anymore rain, so with great care, he used his own body, leaning over the boy, ashamed yet glad he was unconscious so that the tears couldn't be seen or used later to his (dis)advantage.

Janitor, shaken, dropped the gun.

"Get over here. If you want a nuisance to follow around and torment, you'll help me keep him alive." The Janitor stood frozen to the spot, frightened. "NOW!" Dr.Cox insisted. He removed his outer shirt, leaving him with just a white undershirt and tore the other into strips, trying to stop JD's bleeding before the ambulance arrived. Janitor eventually found his way over.

"What can I do?" He asked, looking fearfully and curiously down at the battered young doctor.

"What do you have on you right now that might be useful?" Dr.Cox asked, doing an above the clothing check for any muscle, tendon, or skeletal distortion.

Janitor briefly patted down his person and found a small Mag-Light flashlight. It was in a cheerful red… brighter than the blood all over the curled up body that it lit. "Where do you need this?" Dr.Cox took a second to reach up and adjust the light, Janitor standing solid as a statue to keep the beam in its bitter path.

Dr.Cox whimpered, he began to feel helpless as he saw clear liquid trickling from the puncture wound in JD's side. He leaned in and whispered to the young man:

"Don't sabotage me …"

The flashing lights were blinding as the ambulance roared down the alley.


End file.
